


Captured

by SubverbalDreams



Series: Captured [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Bondage, Coercion, Daddy Kink, Double Penetration, EddieVenom are basically a mob boss, Evil!Eddie, Evil!Venom, Forced Orgasm, Hand Feeding, Incest, M/M, Mind Rape, Mindfuck, Parent/Child Incest, Physical Abuse, Poor Peter gets wrecked, Porn With Plot, Psychological Trauma, Rape, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Coercion, Shibari, Tentacle Rape, Trauma Bonding, Underage Sex, Victim!Peter, heed the warnings, peter is 16, spidervenom - Freeform, symbrock, this is going to be dark, veddie - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-04 22:27:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18822004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SubverbalDreams/pseuds/SubverbalDreams
Summary: Peter was a teenage runaway who thought he had found a helping hand in famous reporter Eddie Brock.Turned out, that hand was a manacle...and Eddie Brock is more than he seems.





	1. Daddies' Rules

**Author's Note:**

> Let me be clear. PETER IS 16 IN THIS FIC. There will be forced sex and physical and psychological abuse. If that isn't what you want to read, back out now. If you're ready to jump down the rabbit hole, read on.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter knows he's in trouble. 
> 
> WARNING: This fic contains explicit sexual abuse of a 16 year old. Use your discretion.

“Hey, Happy. So, I didn’t do as much as I woulda liked and I, I know it’s not—I mean, it’s finals this week, right?” Peter winced at the way his voice cracked over the last word. It took all his concentration to keep his voice steady. “But I, uh, you know that guy that’s been stealing wallets the last two weeks? I got him! I know, finally, right?” A small laugh fell like dust from his lips. “Anyway, I’ll call back with a better update soon. And, and let me know, y’know? If there’s anything I can help with...anyway. Yeah. Bye!”

Peter hung up, took a deep breath and braced his hands against the desk. _Focus, Peter. Focus_. He needed to get through as much homework as possible. He should have at least an hour, before—

 _Spiders_.

Oh, no.

For years, he’d called it his “spider-sense”: that early-warning signal of nearby danger. But when it came on like this, he just thought of it as “spiders.” Every one of his hairs would lift in a wave, a tickle up his arms and legs and back that felt just like a thousand spiders walking over his skin.

Peter swept everything off the desk and into his backpack, pages tumbling helter-skelter as he shoved math homework on top of a history essay and piled three heavy textbooks on top of it all.

He could sort that out later; all that mattered was that the desk was clear. That was one of the Rules.

Peter ripped off his shirt and stuffed it in the backpack. That wasn’t where it should go, but he couldn’t think straight. His whole body itched with that crawling sensation.

His hands hesitated at the button of his jeans. His eyes darted to the window.

_I could leave._

It wasn’t the first time he’d thought that. He could crash through the window. Shoot a web to the next building, then just keep swinging until he got out of the city. From there, he could take a train somewhere—anywhere.

Abandon the Stark internship. Abandon school. He really would have no future. And it was a moot point anyway, because the _other_ would find him.

It always found him.

The front door clicked like cannon fire. Peter jerked, startled out of his milling thoughts. He ripped off his socks and shoes, but was still hesitating over the pants when the bedroom door opened.

They were in their human form. Their _Eddie_ form.

Peter stumbled to his knees, clumsy as a newborn foal. They did that to him. Like being sixteen and awkward wasn’t bad enough. Whenever they were around, Peter tripped over his own feet.

Eddie’s dispassionate eyes took in Peter, swept over the desk and the floor around him where his shoes, socks, and backpack lay in disarray.

“You’re—home early,” Peter squeaked.

Eddie’s eyes dropped to Peter’s mouth and he suddenly became very aware of how much he needed to swallow. He held it, held it, as more and more spit filled the space between his tongue and teeth.

Eddie’s full lips twisted into a half-smile. Hard not to stare. Peter loved Eddie’s lips. That smile sent trembling heat through his crotch. The continued silence made his next words come out faint.

“Is everything...ok?”

Eddie stepped into the room, nudged the door closed behind him with his heel. He flicked open the buttons on his blue cotton shirt, one after another as he stalked toward Peter. And that’s what it was: a stalking. Predator and prey.

“Everything’s great,” Eddie said at last, his voice a scrape of steel wool. He finished unbuttoning his shirt and spread it open. His chest was sculpted and tattooed, but there was an inky stain over his heart that hadn’t come from a tattoo needle. Peter looked away from it quickly.

“Network’s put my show at the top. Exclusive footage of those Avengers morons wrecking shit and the impact on the poor, yadda yadda. We’re ringin’ in triple the salary from the last job and Banstetler’s had an unfortunate accident so there’s no more competition.”

Eddie reached out to cup Peter’s chin, tilting his head up. Spiders streaked up and down Peter’s skin. He rubbed himself, trying to calm the agitation. Eddie grinned down at him.

His smile was sharp. Literally. The _other’s_ teeth in Eddie’s mouth. They melted together like that, sometimes.

His mouth was monstrous. So were the words that had just come out of it.

“You...killed Banstetler?” Peter’s voice was small. Smaller than he’d wanted it to be. Moral outrage took a lot of effort and he was running on empty, these days.

**“We were hungry.”**

Peter jumped as Venom’s voice overlapped with Eddie’s. More razor teeth showed as Eddie’s lips pulled back farther than they should’ve been able to. Eddie’s hand tightened on Peter’s jaw. His thumb trailed up to rest against Peter’s bottom lip.

“You’re doin’ that junkie huddle again,” Eddie observed.

That was what Eddie called it when Peter hugged himself and rubbed his arms. Peter forced his hands down into his lap.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Salright.” Eddie smirked. “Vee thinks it’s cute.”

Eddie’s eyes lost focus as he watched his thumb trace back and forth over Peter’s lip. It was the look he got when he was talking to the _other_. Right now, Eddie’s eyes were iron gray.

Peter had noticed early on that Eddie’s eyes shifted color. Green, blue, or gray depending on the light and his mood. Gray was always a bad sign. Peter’s stomach twisted into knots.

“ _Alright then,_ ” Eddie said under his breath.

“Sir,” Peter began in a small voice. “I have a lot of...of homework and it’s finals week—”

That was all he got out before Eddie slapped him across the mouth. A light slap. Just getting his attention. Peter swallowed the lump that filled his throat. Eddie squeezed his chin and tilted his head back.

“Shut up, son.” His voice rasped up Peter’s chest, flooding heat through his neck and face.

“ _Don’t,_ ” Peter said, voice cracking. He pushed Eddie’s hand off his chin. Eddie caught his wrist, and the other wrist, too, when Peter tried to pry that hand off. Their brief struggle ended with Eddie holding Peter’s wrists out to either side. Black veins pulsed along the backs of Eddie’s hands. The other, not quite rising through his skin. Peter felt like he might piss himself with fear, but he forced the words out all the same.

“ _Don’t call me that._ ”

 **“Why?”** Eddie and Venom asked the question together. Eddie was smiling; he already knew. Venom might have really been asking. It seemed not to understand many of the things that humans did; it was constantly asking questions.

“Ask _him,_ ” Peter said, meaning for Venom to ask Eddie. He earned himself another needle-toothed grin.

**“Later. Right now, we wish to punish our little spider.”**

“What? _Why?_ ” Peter’s voice rose an octave for the second word.

“We laid down ground rules, didn’t we, son?” Eddie asked. Peter clenched his jaw at the repeat of “son.” The corners of Eddie’s eyes crinkled in amused understanding. “You take care of us, we take care of you.”

“I did everything you asked, Mr. Brock,” Peter said, as coldly as he could manage. The high pitch of his voice didn’t help matters. “Dinner just needs to be warmed up. Your clothes are clean, bed’s made, I dusted the, the, uh…”

His voice trailed off as a black tentacle emerged from Eddie’s waist. The blackness rippled and stretched down until it touched the hem of Peter’s jeans. It split into two and deftly unbuttoned his pants. Eddie pulled up on Peter’s wrists, bringing him to his feet.

“We told you to greet us on your knees in the bedroom every night when we come home,” Eddie murmured.

 **“Naked,”** he and Venom finished together.

The tentacles pulled Peter’s jeans and underwear down to his ankles.

__

That was the point where Peter used to fight.

He’d always had to fight off bullies because of his size; it had gotten him into all kinds of trouble, until Aunt Mae. She had encouraged him to stick up for himself. Defended him, when it got him called to the principal’s office. Aunt Mae was the best.

She hadn’t really been his aunt, just another in a long series of foster parents, but she’d been like family. Then her boyfriend got caught dealing cocaine out of the apartment and Peter couldn’t live with her anymore.

That was where things started going bad. Like really, really bad.

When they told him he couldn’t live with her, that he’d be going back to the group home, Peter ran away. Nothing but the spider-suit Tony Stark had given him, a single change of clothes, and his school books.

Sure, he thought about going to Mr. Stark for help, but what would that get him? He was trying to impress the guy, not come off like another whiny bum looking for a handout. So Peter kept up the chipper phone messages (one day, just _one_ of them would get a response!) and he found a new place to sleep every night.

He was kind of shocked that the cops never showed up at school for him. Of course, they had more important things to do than look for a runaway orphan. Peter kept going to class and kept his head down. He brushed off Ned, his only real friend, and no one else knew him well enough to see that anything was wrong.

He could do this. So he kept telling himself. Just two more years til he was eighteen, right? Maybe he could find work in the meantime...maybe rent out some space on somebody’s couch...

But Eddie Brock found him instead. Or rather, Venom did, but Peter hadn’t known about Venom at the time.

He knew about Eddie, of course. Eddie was a celebrity. He was a champion for the homeless.

Eddie had been the savior he’d needed. Peter was washing himself (and his filthy clothes) in a public swimming pool shower; it was midnight and he had climbed the wall. He was buck-ass naked and already freezing, but then all the hairs on his body stood straight up. Peter turned off the shower and flattened against the wall, listening. Someone was in the shower room with him.

“No offense, kiddo, but you stink.” That was his opening line. Of course, Peter recognized him. Of course, Peter was horrified at being seen like this. But Eddie had been so relaxed with him. So calming.

_Nothing to be scared of, kid. You look like you could use a break._

_Need a place to crash? Just for a night._

Of course, Peter was suspicious. I mean, come _on_ . A grown man walking in on him in a _public shower_ , _at midnight(!), in Queens(!?!)_ offering him a place to sleep?

But he was also _tired_. So tired. Maybe five hours of sleep in the last two weeks. One of those hours had been at school and earned him detention. Peter felt like he was slogging through a nightmare. He was going to be expelled. He was going to lose everything he had left.

So when _“This is The Brock Report”_ Eddie Brock offered Peter his own shirt to replace Peter’s wet one (oh _wow_ he had such a nice chest though) and ushered him to his chariot ( _a motorcycle??!!!?!)_ , Peter just went with it.

He went.

And here he was.

___

“On the bed,” Eddie said.

 **“On your back,”** Venom added. **“We like to see your face.”** Eddie smirked even as those last words left his lips. “Yeah, we do,” he murmured.

Resistance twisted around in Peter’s throat. Eddie saw it, pushed Peter until the back of his knees hit the bed and then kept pushing, climbing on top of him. Peter’s face felt so hot, his head was floating.

He didn’t think he wanted this. Except, he did. His lips were aching by the time Eddie nudged his face up and covered Peter’s mouth with his own.

 _I don’t want this,_ he told himself, as Eddie’s tongue pushed into his mouth. Cigarettes and stout beer and _Eddie_. Too-sharp teeth and a too-long tongue. Peter’s toes curled. Eddie put a knee between his legs to spread them. His rough pants were like electricity against Peter’s inner thighs.

“You scared of me, baby?”

Eddie murmured the question against his throat, but it took Peter a beat longer to decipher the words. He felt feverish.

“No,” he said. His voice shook, but at least he wasn’t singing falsetto anymore.

Eddie pulled back. His open palm rang like a gong across Peter’s face. Once. Twice.

Peter fought, then. He couldn’t stop himself. But he was quickly pinned back to the bed by entirely too many hands. Peter squirmed for a few seconds, then let out an angry groan and went limp.

“The first one was for lying to me,” Eddie calmly explained. “The second was because you forgot your manners.”

Peter closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. The entire side of his face hurt. He wasn’t crying, though. He wasn’t. His eyes were watering because the slap had hit the side of his nose. That was all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this mainly to relieve stress. I have some ideas for where it might go from here (besides the obvious). I'm open to suggestions.
> 
> Tumbl me [HERE](http://subverbaldreams.tumblr.com) for more art and fics - I dare you.
> 
> Twit your distaste [HERE](http://twitter.com/SubverbalD).
> 
> Some notes on how this site works:  
> \- If you “subscribe” you’ll get emails as new chapters come out. No one (not even me) can see who subscribes.  
> \- You can make “private” bookmarks, again no one can see them.  
> \- If you’re logged out of the Archive and hit “Kudos” it just says “A guest left Kudos” (and it lets me know you appreciated my work, which is nice).
> 
> Fantasy is a blissful filter where pain can be turned into pleasure.
> 
> ❤️❤️🖤


	2. Magic Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This scene got long so it’ll be split into 1 more part.

Eddie went still, listening, while Peter’s stomach churned.

”No,” Eddie said at last. He chuckled low in his throat. “You gotta remember he’s still learning, Vee.” His eyes focused on Peter. His twisted smile softened. “We shouldn’t hurt him too much.”

Eddie’s two hands were on Peter’s hair and neck. The other hands, though, the ones that belonged to Venom, ripped his pants the rest of the way off, then turned into cords which wrapped round and round Peter’s limbs, binding his ankles together and his wrists behind his back. Peter pulled experimentally. There was no give. None.

The hand in his hair became a fist. Eddie leaned down and took Peter’s mouth in a consuming kiss. His beard stubble scraped Peter’s lips raw in seconds. His tongue made it hard to breathe. Or maybe it was his weight. Or the fact that Peter was trapped here, that there was nowhere far enough to run, that there was an amorphous warm pressure sliding up Peter’s inner thigh…

 _“No...no, no,”_ Peter whimpered. He _hated_ the sound of his own voice, so small and scared. Venom’s growl overlaid Eddie’s, gave it a depth and distortion that sent tremors through Peter’s skin.

 **“Beg us,”** Venom/Eddie ordered. Peter looked up in time to see blackness, like ink in water, ebb and flow through the whites of Eddie’s eyes.

Peter clamped his jaw shut. He shook his head.

The warm pressure spread up into the crease between his legs, flowed into his crack like liquid silk, then slid over his balls and surrounded his cock. It formed to the shape of him, squeezed along his length, began to ripple and tug. Peter gasped.

Eddie’s fist pulled in his hair. Eddie’s mouth brushed against his, breath seeping between his lips.

 ** _“Beg us,”_** they said again, cajoling this time. The tugs became more insistent. Peter squirmed in place.

 _I don’t want this,_ he told himself.

_I don’t want it!_

_I don’t…please…_

He bit his lip to keep that “please” from coming out. His breath was coming heavy and quick; he was hyperventilating. Maybe he would pass out. That would be nice.

“Breathe slow, baby,” Eddie murmured. “Come on. Slow it down.”

A warm tentacle rubbed up and down Peter’s cheek, matching the stroke of Eddie’s thumb against his forehead.

The dam broke. Peter started to cry.

It was easier when Eddie and Venom were cruel to him. When they were cruel, he could hate them (and not himself) and things just seemed to make more sense. But when they did this...when they comforted him, took care of him...everything became muddled in his head. He didn’t know where to direct all of his anger and hurt.

He had this feeling, this really bad feeling that it was just him. That he was defective somehow and this was what he deserved.

Eddie pulled him into a tight hug. He and Venom cradled Peter while the sobs shook him apart. Their weight compressed Peter’s chest; it helped the crying stop. When they lifted him off the bed, he didn’t struggle. His nose was wet and the whole front of his face was buzzing.

“C-can I, wipe, my f-face?” Peter asked thickly as they settled him down onto his knees on the floor.

Eddie’s eyes flashed down at him; he tilted Peter’s chin up. “What’s that?”

Peter swallowed, knot so thick in his throat that it hurt. Wet slime dripped over his upper lip. Disgusting.

He mumbled the phrase Eddie wanted to hear. Couldn’t make his tongue work right. Eddie lowered to one knee and looked him straight in the eyes. That inky blackness scrolled through his sclera. Both of them, watching.

“We can’t hear you, son. Speak up.”

Peter closed his eyes.

Eddie ordered him to open them.

He opened them.

“Daddy, can I please wipe my face?”

Those two words, _Daddy_ and _please_ , worked like magic. Just like he’d known they would. The hard line of Eddie’s brow softened and he gave Peter a smile that stabbed him through the chest with just how much he’d pleased them. Eddie and Venom seemed to equally enjoy pretending that Peter was their son.

Eddie shrugged out of his own shirt, cradled Peter’s face in one gentle hand, and used the shirt to wipe him clean. Peter was left with Eddie’s cologne in his nostrils and a sense of tremulous calm in his heart. Maybe he shouldn’t fight so much. Everything was easy, if he just didn’t fight.

Venom’s tentacles pulsed and shifted around him. The textured slide was familiar to him, now. Venom pulled his wrists higher up his back, slid up either side of his neck and crossed over his chest so that his hanging wrists put slight pressure against the sides of his throat. It made him even more lightheaded than he already was. Calmed him even further.

They knew all his likes and dislikes, probably better than Peter did. He’d never been with anyone before Eddie and Venom.

The tentacles continued their slide, bound each of his legs in their bent position with ankle to thigh. Helpless. Some frantic flutter inside of Peter’s chest finally went still. He couldn’t do anything, now. He didn’t have to fight.

Eddie stroked Peter’s cheeks with both hands, then ran his palms down Peter’s neck.

“That’s real pretty, Vee,” he murmured. “Beautiful work.” He traced the cords at Peter’s throat with a feather touch, all the way down to the crisscross of tentacles that netted across Peter’s chest.

Venom shivered at Eddie’s touch. _All_ of Venom shivered. The vibration spread across Peter’s chest, hit his throat, his heavily wrapped forearms, traveled around his waist and thighs, behind his balls and up the crack of his ass, all in the span of a few seconds.

Peter cried out, but it turned to a long moan when Venom’s reactive shiver morphed into very _deliberate_ stroking. The symbiote pulsed around him. The thick tentacle between his ass cheeks grew a gentle nub and snugged up against his hole. The ones around his thighs snaked inward to stroke his lower belly and his balls. They didn’t touch his cock; they didn’t need to. His own pants brushing the wrong way could make him hard and this was a trillion times more erotic.

Something more slick than the tentacles stroked up Peter’s shoulder. It whipped around his throat and slowly pulled off, leaving a streak of wetness behind. A tongue. Venom’s tongue.

**“Eddie. We no longer want to punish him.”**

Peter jumped at how close that voice was to his ear. He was always nervous when Venom formed its own head. Those long, pointed teeth had sunk into his flesh many times. If not for his enhanced healing, he would be dotted with a thousand puncture scars by now.

**“Look how sweet he is. Spread and dripping for us.”**

“I’m lookin’, Vee,” Eddie said. His voice had gone husky; a very human darkness filled his eyes. He cupped Peter’s face and leaned forward, as if for a kiss. But he dipped down instead, opened his mouth over the pulse in Peter’s neck and sucked on it. One of his hands stole down to wrap firmly around Peter’s cock. The nub at Peter’s anus became flowing liquid and poured against his most private spot in an infinite wave.

He still might not have lost himself, if Eddie hadn’t pulled up from his neck and then pressed their lips together.

The kiss was almost chaste. Eddie cradled the back of Peter’s head, worked Peter’s cock in his skilled hand, and laid kiss after kiss against his lips. Just a little tongue. Tender. Peter’s mouth moved on its own, responded to that tenderness with devouring need. It was Peter who deepened the kiss, Peter who sucked on Eddie’s full upper lip and worked it between his teeth until Eddie growled with each exhale.

Peter responded to the growls with whimpers of his own. He wanted Eddie to be pleased with him. He wanted to be good.

 _“Please,”_ he moaned, as Eddie’s hand left his cock. Venom pushed that nub tighter against his hole, just barely opening him. Peter gasped, drinking in Eddie’s breath. “Please, Mr. Brock.”

“Please, what?” Eddie cradled Peter’s face and suckled each of his lips in turn. Peter squirmed against his bindings, but there was no give.

He didn’t have to fight.

But he couldn’t quite let go.

Peter closed his eyes. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t be what Eddie wanted. His breath started to hitch again. He was suffocating on his own failure.

But Eddie shushed him and threaded his strong arms under Peter’s. Enormous hands wrapped around Peter’s waist from behind—Venom’s hands, clawed tips pressing divets into his skin. The two of them picked him up off the floor and walked him over to the bed. Venom’s hands melted back into the rest of the cords as they laid Peter down on his back. He tried to close his legs, but Eddie pulled them back apart and knelt between his knees. He cupped Peter’s cheek in his palm and looked down at him with so much warmth, Peter’s heart burned to believe it was real.

“It’s alright, baby. You’ve done really well for tonight. I’ll take it from here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to get intense in the next chapter! Buckle up. I’ll put in some comfort in Chapter 4. 
> 
> Oh hey and I have a [Tumblr](http://subverbaldreams.tumblr.com/) where I would love to hear from you.


	3. Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one broke me. Strap in...

A twisted knot of gratitude choked in Peter’s throat. Tears fuzzed out his vision. He closed his eyes and the fat drops rolled down the sides of his face.

“Thank you, sir,” he managed.

They purred, “Mmm, **you’re welcome,** baby,” with overlapping voices, then shifted their weight. Slide of fabric against flesh. Clunk of boots hitting the floor, then Eddie’s hands stroking up Peter’s inner thighs. “Let’s help our sweet boy relax, Vee. Don’t wanna hurt ‘im.”

 **“Not too much,”** Venom agreed. This time, Peter didn’t flinch at the voice. Pain might be nice at this point. It might help him float away from the mess he’d made of today.

The cords around his thighs rippled, as if they were swimming upward. The nub at his anus lengthened and nudged into him with liquid ease. The base of the tentacle remained thin, just barely stretching him, but the part that was inside of him kept getting bigger.

Peter squirmed as the head of that tentacle grew and grew until it felt like a small fist. It kept that girth and then lengthened until he felt stuffed with it. He became hopelessly aware of his dick and every brush of air against him.

Then Venom thrust.

Peter’s eyes flew wide. His back arched and he twisted, trying to ease the sensation. The tentacle shrank back down, then grew long and wide and pushed deep into his body. Peter jerked; his cock slapped against his stomach and left a wet smear of precum. Eddie stroked his legs and waist, making the cords tremble. Sending Peter into the stratosphere.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, sweetheart?” Eddie’s voice was rough.

 _“Yes, sir,”_ Peter gasped. _“Ohpleaseyes!”_

Venom rewarded him with another thrust. And another. And another.

Peter’s spine arched. His head fell back. The cords along his throat pulled tight, restricting the blood flow to his brain, and the orgasm rolled through him before he knew it was happening. Cum splashed across his lips. Eddie pinned his writhing shoulders to the bed and licked it off of him, his deep moans a counterpoint to Peter’s rusty whimpers.

 **“He’s ready for us, now,”** Venom said from somewhere above Peter’s head.

Eddie responded with a groan. Venom slipped its tentacle out of Peter, its slickness replaced by Eddie’s warm, hairy thighs and the blunt head of his uncut cock. Eddie leaned down to kiss Peter’s lips as he positioned himself. He left kisses all along Peter’s jaw, kissed his earlobes and his swollen eyelids. Slowly, so slowly, the head of his cock pushed in.

Venom had stretched Peter on the inside, but it had barely opened the ring of his entrance. He felt every agonizing inch of Eddie’s cock as it sank into him. He couldn’t help the sounds he made.

“Please... _oh!_...please...sir…”

“That’s my good boy. So sweet, that’s right.” Eddie covered him completely, wrapped one arm around his neck to hold him in place as he began to thrust. The most incredible pain sent shooters of sensation up Peter’s thighs from the stretched ring of his hole. He screamed, only to have Eddie clap a hand over his mouth and thrust harder.

“Pretty baby,” Eddie cooed. “You’re bein’ such a good boy. Take it for Daddy, that’s right. **We’ve got you.”**

Peter groaned into Eddie’s palm. He couldn’t take this. It was too much. But even as he thought this, he felt some of Venom’s cords diffuse and slide under his skin, felt Venom move through his rib cage and up his spine.

Something happened inside of him. Something changed. Even though he had just cum, heat poured back into his cock. That unbearable oversensitivity melted into pure lust.

It was Venom’s doing. Eddie called it a “reset.” The symbiote could do it to both of them, just keep all of them going as long as they wanted to.

And Peter liked it. He liked it way too much and they knew it. This was the only time he really felt _good_. Nothing else seemed to scratch the constant itch that had been growing in his chest ever since they had taken him in. Not even swinging from high buildings could make him fly, anymore.

Just this.

“Oh, please!” He moaned the plea into Eddie’s hand. “Oh, fuck me!” The F-word still felt dirty on his lips, even with Eddie’s nine inches sunk deep inside him. It somehow felt good to debase himself more. Harder to tell what hurt and what didn’t. It was all just sensation.

That lasted until Eddie bit down on his shoulder with Venom’s teeth. Peter screamed until his voice cracked into silence. White-hot pain filled his head. The thrusts became vicious to match the bite, to match the prehensile tongue which lapped up Peter’s blood like it was sweet cream.

The white faded first to red, then to a hot, nauseating throb. Peter’s vision returned slowly, his awareness more slowly still. Eddie held him by the hips. The inky blotch over Eddie’s heart, that little patch of Venom which never really faded away, had grown crawlers which spread up the side of Eddie’s neck and turned half his face black. Blood dripped from his mouth. _Their_ mouth. They were melting together, Eddie and Venom.

 **“Our sweet son,”** they said. **“We love our little spider.”**

A tentacle stroked Peter’s sweaty hair off his forehead. The cords around his throat tightened until his head went light. The pain from his shoulder spread in a liquid wave across his body. Eddie angled his thrusts upward so that every stroke hit just the right spot.

So big inside him. Every nerve rubbed raw.

_We love our little spider._

Finally, Peter was able to let go.

Eddie flipped Peter onto his chest and pulled his ass in the air. Peter moaned encouragement when he thrust back in. A tentacle pressed in alongside Eddie’s cock and Peter begged for more. It grew thicker, stroked his insides in counterpoint to Eddie’s thrusts until Peter was sobbing around a mouthful of comforter which bore the coppery taste of his own blood.

The cords melted off of Peter’s legs. Liquid symbiote flesh slid between his chest and the bed, then bulked up until Peter found himself lifted up as Venom formed underneath him. His legs were now spread around Venom’s waist; massive, black arms held him tight to the symbiote’s chest. Venom sat up with Peter in its arms, then Eddie and Venom both lifted Peter between them and stood up off the bed.

Peter’s head hung forward, his forehead against Venom’s chest. His arms remained bound. His legs were completely numb.

 _“Please, don’t drop me,”_ he whimpered.

 _“Never,”_ came in stereo from both Venom’s and Eddie’s mouths. Eddie forced Peter to look up into Venom’s milky, white eyes, kissed behind his ear as Venom spoke to him.

 **“You belong to** **_us.”_ **

They thrust in tandem at the “us.” Peter cried out wordlessly. Venom’s tentacle had turned to a huge cock inside him once they had stood up. With that thrust, Peter felt like he was tearing open.

**“Relax, son. Our precious boy. We won’t let you fall.”**

The words rumbled through Peter’s skin. They meant nothing and somehow everything. He couldn’t think enough to process what Venom was saying to him, except that they wouldn’t let him fall. He couldn’t form words, anymore. They were too big inside of him, seemed to have pushed all the air out of his lungs. He wept and they wiped away his tears.

Eddie and Peter came at the same time—Venom, again, orchestrating everything. Peter was delirious with pleasure, was choked halfway to oblivion by Venom’s twining cords. When Venom’s claws sliced his lower back open, it barely even hurt. It just felt warm and wet.

Peter’s awareness fragmented, after that. Everything came in snapshots.

Hands on his arms, rubbing the circulation back into them. Towel wrapped around him to staunch the blood. Stinging pain in his back. Eddie’s voice, soft but rough. Soothing words as they tucked Peter into bed.

“Sleep tight, baby. Tomorrow’s a big day.”

 

—

 

A horrendous crash jolted Peter awake in the dead of night. Broken glass glittered all over the floor. Venom vaulted out of the bed in their full form, snarling.

Peter tried to get up, but pain made him clumsy and he wound up tangled in the sheets. There was a _whoosh_ and crackle, a crash, and Venom screeched like a banshee.

By the time Peter tore the sheets off himself and staggered out of bed, half the room was on fire.

His heart snagged in his throat. _Venom was on fire._ Pieces of it sloughed off of Eddie’s melting skin. A flash of metallic red and gold through the smoke, then a blast that shook the floor. Something hit Venom in the chest and cannonballed him out of the window.

Peter screamed, the sound ripped from the base of his guts. Venom was dead. Eddie was dead. There was no way they’d survived that blast and then the fall. Peter ran through shards of glass to the window, nearly tripped over the ledge himself, but a cold, metal arm caught him across the chest and shoved him back into the room. He fell on his ass.

Iron Man stood over him, glaring with that blank metal face, then the mask peeled back in segments and it was Tony Stark looking down at him.

Still glaring.

“What in the _EVER-LOVING FUCK_ have you been _doing,_ Peter?” Mr. Stark yelled. He swung an arm toward the bed and then covered his eyes. “Wait. Don’t answer that. I _know_ what you’ve been doing. Congratulations. You’ve been _fucking_ a _murderer.”_

Peter couldn’t have spoken if he’d wanted to. His face was numb, his mind entirely blank except for an all-encompassing horror. Peter tried to cover himself with his hands, but Mr. Stark had already turned his face away, like the sight of Peter made him sick.

A drone buzzed up to Mr. Stark, dipping and weaving with the weight of its cargo.

It was the Spider-Man suit.

“Thanks, Friday,” Mr. Stark said curtly.

“You’re welcome, Boss,” the drone chirped.

“Alright,” Mr. Stark said, straightening. “We’re done here.”

 _“No,”_ Peter managed to breathe.

 _“DONE,”_ Mr. Stark repeated. “Oh, and don’t bother trying to call. The number’s been changed.” The suit climbed back over his face as he spoke. The jets in his palms and boots opened up.

He was gone before Peter could say another word.

 

—

 

Peter woke up to his own screams.

It was dark, so dark he didn’t know where he was. All he knew was that Tony Stark was through with him. Venom and Eddie were dead. He was completely alone.

He hugged his legs to his chest and howled. The cuts on his back were still raw; they split open as his spine curved. He didn’t care. Venom had given him those cuts. He wanted them to stay. He wanted them to scar, so they could never leave him.

Peter flinched into himself as the lights suddenly came on. At first, he couldn’t process what he was seeing. A pristine bedroom and Eddie standing over him. Eddie’s eyes seemed green in the too-bright light, but they didn’t look at him with loathing, the way Mr. Stark had. Eddie just seemed interested. Curious.

Very much alive.

A flowing, black shape emerged from the ink stain over Eddie’s heart. It ballooned up, grew Venom’s full face, and addressed Peter directly.

**“Why are you making that sound?”**

“It’s called crying, Vee,” Eddie said, still watching Peter.

 **“It is different.** **_We_ ** **make him cry and it sounds different.”**

They both went silent, wrapped up in some internal conversation. Peter’s teeth began to chatter. He was drenched in cold sweat. And right now, he would give anything to be held until the shaking stopped.

_“Daddy.”_

Peter flinched at the sound of his own voice. That wasn’t what he had meant to say. What _had_ he meant to say?

Both of them narrowed their eyes at Peter, but he had no words. No pride. Nothing. Hugging his knees with one arm, he reached out the other toward them.

_Please._

Blackness flowed over Eddie’s arms and legs as they climbed back onto the bed. They pulled Peter into their arms, snug against their chest so that his head rested on the pulsing symbiote flesh over Eddie’s heart. They hugged him tight, so tight it was hard to breathe, and it was everything he needed.

He rooted into their chest. Tangled his legs with theirs. Whimpered in pleasure as Eddie’s hands and Venom’s tendrils stroked him all over. The touches woke up his wounds, but that was okay. It helped him stay awake. His ass ached. His back and his shoulder throbbed with dull, red heat.

His shoulder.

Peter flashed back to that moment after Eddie had bitten him. His face half flesh, half symbiote, with blood running down his chin.

_Our sweet son. We love our little spider._

No one had said they loved him since Aunt Mae. No one before her, either, except his real parents. Mr. Stark certainly hadn’t said it.

But Venom was obsessed with human parents and children. It had wanted a child. Eddie once said that he had never agreed to let Venom indulge this desire, until they met Peter. After they met him, they both wanted it.

They kept a roof over his head. They kept him fed and clean. Venom even tried to help him with his homework, sometimes, when Peter had a research project. (It just got in the way, but it was very curious.)

They were always there when Peter called. They always picked up the phone.

They were here for him right now, as his breathing grew steady and his body slowly warmed. They rocked him through the aftershocks of his nightmare.

Maybe Peter didn’t know what love was. Maybe he was only just learning.

Sometimes learning was painful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack for this chapter: [Change by the Deftones](http://youtube.com/watch?v=A3ImpLn46MU)
> 
>  
> 
> Fuck. That was a lot of hurt. Time for some comfort. Dark, twisted comfort, but hey, at least they try.


	4. Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie and Venom give Peter some treats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (IMO, Canon is just a suggestion. In my story all the hot bad guys still have their faces.)

Peter jerked awake to a hand on his shoulder. He flinched violently before realizing it was only Eddie’s driver and that he had fallen asleep on the way home from school.

“Sorry, Mr. Rumlow,” Peter mumbled. The driver just nodded and shut the sedan’s door behind him, so that tinted windows hid the leather interior from view.

How Eddie could afford a driver to take Peter to and from school, that was a mystery. Peter had googled reporters’ salaries; nothing jived with the amount of money Eddie Brock threw around. And people like Brock “No Relation” Rumlow...they got Peter’s hackles up.

”Hey. Kid.”

Peter turned. Mr. “Even My Chest Hair Pumps Iron” Rumlow was holding out a small, square envelope to him.

“From Mr. Brock. He said to read it before you go up.”

Peter opened the envelope just outside the elevator. It contained a plain white note card with Eddie’s chickenscratch handwriting.

 _Leave_ _every_ _thing at the door and go to the bathroom._

Peter bit his lip.

At least he was done with school for the summer. He hadn’t done his best, but he wouldn’t be held back a year, either. No more hiding from Ned. No more frantic studying at 3 A.M. He could rest for a while.

Just a little while.

After he did whatever it was that _they_ had in mind for tonight.

Peter set down his backpack once he reached Eddie’s private floor, then stripped off his clothes. He hadn’t tried to call or text Happy today; the nightmare was still fresh in his mind.

And besides.

It hadn’t been Tony Stark holding him for hour after hour last night because he was afraid to sleep. It had been Eddie and Venom. Then, when Eddie fell asleep himself, it has just been Venom. Peter had woken for school with tentacles stroking his face. A gentle alarm clock.

Sometimes it was like that. They could be so...what? Nurturing, he supposed.

The double doors into the bathroom were shut. Peter pushed them open.

Lit candles littered the floor and shelves. The hot-tub sized jacuzzi was filled with bubbling water.

 _They_ stood there, naked as Peter was, except that black tendrils writhed and wound around Eddie’s limbs. Eddie tilted a fanged smile at Peter and held out a hand to him.

**“Come.”**

There had been a time when Peter would have bridled at being called like a dog. But not now. Right now, the thought of a warm bath and maybe some more cuddling sounded amazing.

A tentacle the size of a cat’s tail wrapped around Peter’s wrist as he came near, pulled him into Eddie’s side and they wrapped their arm around him. They guided him into the steaming water. Slid in beside him. Cradled him as the jacuzzi jets worked over the welted, purple scars on his lower back: all that was left from last night’s wounds.

Peter had been afraid this was going to be some kind of punishment. It wasn’t. Eddie put shampoo in Peter’s hair and Venom massaged his scalp while Eddie ran a loofah all over Peter’s body, gentle over his healing wounds. The only place he didn’t scrub was Peter’s balls and cock. For those, Eddie soaped up his hands, then worked him over thoroughly. Venom cradled the back of Peter’s head and petted his forehead. Eddie nudged the tip of one finger into Peter’s hole, just enough to make him gasp, and pumped his cock with the other hand.

“Good boy,” Eddie breathed. Peter’s eyelids fluttered open.

“Mr. Brock?” When Eddie met his eyes, he hesitated and licked his lips, nervous. “Thank you,” Peter said softly. “A-and Venom. For this.”

Eddie gave him one of those secretive smiles, plush lips twisted to one side. He didn’t answer except to continue his strokes and work his finger in deeper. Peter leaned back and spread his legs so that one hung across Eddie’s lap. A second finger joined the first. Now he really felt the stretch. Venom’s tendrils crept down Peter’s chest and tweaked his nipples until he squirmed. Arousal built in him despite his exhaustion, until his hips thrust freely from one of Eddie’s hands into the other.

Textured symbiote flesh slid up the sides of Peter’s face. Venom covered his eyes first: a living blindfold. Without sight, Peter could think of nothing else but what they were doing to his body.

 _“Please,”_ he moaned. He put an arm around Eddie. Needed to ground himself. _“Please, Mr. Brock...please, Venom…”_

More of Venom slid up Peter’s jaw and covered his mouth, as well. Blindfolded and gagged. Cords wrapped around each of his wrists and pulled them back so that his arms were pinned out to either side. Peter whimpered. A thread of fear still wormed through his chest, but mostly he just felt pampered, a little overheated, and incredibly horny.

Eddie stood up, got between Peter’s legs and lifted his hips until the front of his body was exposed to the cool bathroom air. With his back still submerged and his head resting on a pillow of Venom at the edge of the jacuzzi, the temperature was now perfect.

Eddie brought his cock to Peter’s entrance and _pushed._

Peter arched and let out a high-pitched whine that couldn’t get past his sealed lips. It was Venom (Eddie told him) who always made sure they were slick before they fucked Peter, but his ass was still sore from being double-fucked. Eddie felt _huge._ When he started to thrust, Peter bucked out of the water and fell back with a _slap._

Water sloshed out of the jacuzzi as Eddie pounded into him. Peter struggled against the wrist bindings, fought to scream, but he was helpless. Helpless and so very, very turned on.

Something shifted against the base of his cock then wrapped around him until he was sheathed in it. As it started to tug on him, Peter realized it was Venom’s tongue. Nothing in the world felt like that tongue. It moved in impossible ways, lit up every single nerve in Peter’s cock.

He did his best to make noise, only managed muffled whimpers. Eddie murmured to him in a rough voice, called him _sexy baby_ and _sweet whore_ and _Daddy’s little fuck-slut._ Peter’s ears and cheeks burned. When he came, it crashed like a wave that spread out from his cock and set his whole body buzzing. Eddie thrust in deep; his cock swelled and pulsed while Peter was still clenching down on him.

“Oh, baby,” Eddie groaned. He shuddered, then thrust his hips in lazy circles. “That’s our sweet boy. All filled up with Daddy’s cum.”

The temperature in Peter’s neck and face went up another few degrees. He whimpered as Eddie pulled out, then sighed in relief as Venom removed the blindfold and gag, and released his wrists. Peter didn’t resist when Eddie gathered him into his lap.

Hands and tentacles worked over his body, stroking every inch. Some of those tentacles sank through Peter’s skin. He felt them ride up his spinal column and tensed, tried to pull away, but Eddie held him in place and gripped his jaw with one callused hand.

“Take what we give you,” Eddie rasped in his ear.

Peter shuddered. That alien sensation spilled up his neck and into his head. He felt Venom flip the “reset,” but something more, as well. Venom had changed something. Peter writhed in Eddie’s lap until the alien presence seeped out of his skin. It took a little while of Eddie stroking and murmuring to him before he realized what the difference was.

He wasn’t exhausted, anymore.

Eddie smirked down at him.

“You’re welcome, baby.”

 

—

 

They dried off. Eddie put on a pair of blue jeans that rode low on his hips, but told Peter to remain naked. He walked Peter out to the dining room, where a polished mahogany dinner table was surrounded by seven cushioned chairs. Peter had only seen Eddie have guests over a couple times: Mr. “Bad Guy From A Movie” Rumlow and a handful of other unsavory characters. Usually, it was just the three of them.

A covered tray sat on the table, rounded silver like something from an old-time movie. Eddie sat in the chair closest to it. His eyes flashed up to Peter. One green, one blue, in a sea of black. Shadows moved just under Eddie’s skin. The _other,_ still close to the surface.

Eddie leaned back in the chair, spread his legs and pointed at the floor between his feet.

“Down.”

With his chest, neck, and face on fire, Peter knelt between Eddie’s legs.

A tentacle slipped out of Eddie’s side and lifted the lid of the tray. From here, Peter couldn’t see over the table. He didn’t have to wonder for long. A second tentacle picked something off the tray and set it into Eddie’s waiting palm.

Eddie brought his hand down and held it out so Peter could see what he held.

Sushi. Eddie turned it slowly between his fingers. Seaweed wrapped on the outside, the inside looked like raw salmon, avocado, cucumber, and cream cheese. Peter’s favorite.

Peter’s eyes lowered in embarrassment as Eddie brought the roll to his lips.

 **“Look at us,”** they said, through Eddie’s mouth.

He looked up, face burning. They watched intently as Peter’s lips opened to accept the bite. They stroked his hair as he chewed.

The next bite was a small piece of seared beef, slathered with a savory sweet sauce. Eddie’s fingers slipped between Peter’s lips.

“Lick ‘em clean,” he murmured, voice husky. Peter sucked the sauce off each of Eddie’s fingers and earned a warm stroke along his jaw. **“That’s our boy.”**

The next bite was another piece of sushi. This time, Eddie perched it on top of the bulge in his pants, then put his hands on his thighs.

Peter looked up, not understanding, until he read the hunger in Eddie’s smirk.

Oh.

He reached up. That was a mistake. Tentacles came out of nowhere, snatched hold of his wrists and wrenched them up behind his back so hard, he cried out in pain. Eddie _tsked_ him.

“You know better.”

Peter swallowed. Heart hammering, he leaned forward, tilted his head sideways and lowered his mouth to Eddie’s crotch. The fur of Eddie’s lower belly tickled his cheek. The taste of sushi blended with Eddie’s masculine scent and a humiliating warmth gathered in Peter’s cock.

Venom held on to Peter’s wrists. Eddie cupped the back of Peter’s neck and kept him from sitting back onto his heels. He wound up chewing the mouthful with his face pressed up against Eddie’s cock through the denim. As soon as he swallowed, another tentacle squeezed between his ass cheeks and poured against his hole.

Peter gasped, tensed up. The bonds around his wrists kneaded him, as if to soothe him.

Eddie pulled Peter’s head up by the hair, looked down at him with wicked heat and slipped his index and middle finger into Peter’s mouth, just as the tentacle breached him.

_“OhhhHHH!”_

Peter writhed and they held him tighter. Venom whipped around his ankles and stuck his legs to the floor. The shape inside him grew thick and long, thrust in and out slowly while Eddie leaned down to take Peter’s mouth in a deep kiss. His tongue plunged down Peter’s throat, making him gag. Too long. Not human. But they both slipped out of him at once, left him breathless, with slick fluid dripping down the back of his balls and an awful need in his cock. Their toothy, satisfied smile just made the need burn brighter.

Eddie gave him five more pieces of sushi and two pieces of meat before they put the lid back onto the tray. Peter was comfortably full and still half-hard by the time it was over. They pulled him to his feet, laid a chaste kiss on his lips, then with one hand on the back of his neck, walked him to the couch. Venom lifted a folded throw blanket from the corner of the couch and laid it over the cold leather. That was nice, Peter thought. Or maybe it was just keeping stains off the tan leather.

Eddie sat down first. He opened his arm to the side and nodded. Peter sat beside him, sank into the cushion and into Eddie’s side, with Eddie’s arm slung around his shoulders. Black vines poured out of Eddie and wrapped around Peter’s torso, his arms, his legs. Like a full-body hug.

Like velvet chains.

Peter shivered.

The coffee table had a folder on it. One of those 14-by-whatever legal style folders, and it was full of papers. Research for a story, maybe. Though Eddie usually did his research on the computer, or in person.

“We’ve been workin’ on this for a while,” Eddie said. “Made it official today.” His voice was normal, but he seemed worked up about something. Or maybe it was his _other_ who was worked up. There was a slight hum through Venom that transferred into Peter’s skin, made him want to rub himself.

Eddie leaned forward, picked up the folder. He set it in his lap and stroked it lovingly.

Like it was something he cherished.

All of Peter’s hair stood on end. _Spiders._ He squirmed, but Venom clenched down around him and forced him to be still.

Eddie passed the folder over to Peter. Venom gave him enough slack to take it in both hands.

He opened it.

The top sheet was a certificate. Like something you’d get for winning a science fair. Gold script indented into thick card stock paper. Peter’s eyes kept running over and over it, trying to make it come clear.

_Certificate of_

_State of New York_

_Hereby decree_

Bits and pieces of words. Peter’s hands shook and the folder spilled into his lap. Eddie caught the card stock as it slipped out of the binder. Brads held the rest of the pages in place: a sheaf of papers filled with plain black type and legal-looking squiggles.

_Edward Charles Allan Brock_

_Peter Benjamin Parker_

_Certification of the Court_

And finally, the letters unscrambled in Peter’s brain.

_Adoption._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alt title: “In which Eddie is basically a half-alien mob boss with his tentacles sunk deep into political fuckery.”
> 
> Please let me know what you think! ❤️❤️🖤
> 
> 5/19/19 update: I've decided.  
> 1\. I have a gut-wrenching need to see Peter saved, but  
> 2\. I also want to continue mucking about in this filth. 
> 
> Solution? This is going to split into 2 realities after this chapter. In reality A, he gets saved. Reality B, he does not. I'm 3,600 words in on the first and 3,000 words in on the second. 
> 
> STAY TUNED for links to the reality of your choice. Thanks for reading, friendos!


	5. Porquoi Pas Les Deux? (Why Not Both?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story continues...

My heart was torn between two choices. Continue to the bitter end, or have Tony rescue his boy and enter the equally (sometimes more) painful recovery phase? 

 

**Let’s do both. The story splits into two alternate timelines from here.**

 

  * **[Peter Gets Rescued](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18892132/chapters/44843719)**
and, after healing, winds up in a loving relationship with Tony Stark. 


or

  * **[Peter Gets Kept](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18891646/chapters/44842531)**
speaks for itself 


 

Honestly, both feel very real to me. I made "Kept" the second part of this series because it fits the theme. "Rescued" is just as valid, but I separated because it has a different feel to it.

 

I sincerely hope you enjoy these. They've been burning holes in my brain and they demanded to be written.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumbl me [HERE](http://subverbaldreams.tumblr.com) for more art and fics.
> 
> Twitterpate on my [Twitter](http://twitter.com/SubverbalD).
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know if you liked it.
> 
> Ohey and if you’re in the mood for more SpideyVenom, you should absolutely check out [barbaricyawp’s](http://archiveofourown.org/users/barbaricyawp/pseuds/barbaricyawp) smokin’ hot series: [ Along Came A Spider](http://archiveofourown.org/series/1175666), in which Peter is a college student and Eddie is a bad influence in the best ways. OwO

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my AO3 liberry:
> 
> For some very sexplicit dubcon/noncon Victor Creed/Logan:
> 
>   1. [**Blood is Forever**](http://archiveofourown.org/works/17477456)
>   2. **[Poison](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17646176/chapters/41611919)**
> 

> 
> For a short Torture Tuesday prompt featuring Victor/Logan:
> 
>   1. [ **Reconditioning**](http://archiveofourown.org/works/18698554)
> 

> 
> For an epic, dark adventure with tons of consensual gay Wolverine sex, angst, PTSD, and eventual happy ending:
> 
>   1. [**Part 1 Ghost on the Highway**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17245922/chapters/40556258)
>   2. **[Part 2 Back into the Fray](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17258645/chapters/40585418)**
> 



End file.
